Of course he hadn't played the game wisely. Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air. “I have come for an explanation,” she said. A long chest under one of the windows was open, some of its contents dragged out and spilling onto the floor. "You have forgotten your knife, Mr. A small handgun bobbed at the end of it, aimed at Sheila. "Begone! or I fire!" he cried. He had informed her that to leave him would be a choice to live a life of meager subsistence. For some time after he was locked up in this prison Jack continued in a very dejected state.
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